Sweetest Downfall
by Lupinista
Summary: Pre-HBP. Remus confesses his love for Tonks, but things don't quite turn out as expected. Fluff, smut, angst.


**A/N: I haven't written Harry Potter in a long while, but I recently got on a kick and this was begging to be written. Inspired by some sad Regina Spektor songs and what I think happened right before Remus was called away to stay with the werewolves. Also - it's rated M for a reason, keep that in mind!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I'm just playing in the sandbox.**

**x**

"Nymphadora," Remus says, and he looks at me from under his lashes with such intensity that my heart soars up in my throat. "I love you."

My reply catches on my tongue and I just can't make my lips form the words – my mouth is hanging wide open but my voice seems to have died. I've gone into a shock. Because finally, after months upon months of dancing around each other and a few stolen, late-night kisses, he's admitted what I've been looking forward to hearing all along, and it's a warm August night with the sun setting just so in the horizon and every cheesy romantic cliché in the books. All of a sudden he's kissing me with this more urgency, and so I kiss him back, attempting to match the heat. I can tell by his kisses that he means it, he really does love me, and I'm able to pull away for a fraction of a second to murmur a quick "I love you too" before we're back at it and his tongue is running over my lips, which makes it hard to say anything more profound.

My hands, like they have a mind of their own, move to his shirt collar and begin undoing the buttons before I can even register _I'm_ the one doing it. He stiffens slightly as I run my fingertips gently over his chest; I feel scar-puckered skin in long gashes and I pull my lips away from his to drop a gentle peck right over his heart. I bring my arms under his shirt and press my hands to the warm skin of his back. His lips are in my hair and I feel his hand brush my stomach and my shirt being tugged up my body. As I slip out of it, he shrugs off his shirt and his lips are back on mine, hot and demanding.

"Maybe we should go inside," I manage to get out between kisses, my words muffled by his lips. Of all the times I've appreciated the balcony at the rear of my flat, the last thing I want is to give any of my neighbors a show. Wordlessly, he lifts me against his body and carries me inside, his lips nipping at my shoulder, which creates the most delightful little tickle. He makes it four steps before my calves hit the side of my couch and he lowers me a foot so my toes can touch the floor. I stumble a little as I regain my footing, and he allows me half a second to blush before we're kissing again and I'm wrapped up in his touch and taste and smell.

I feel as if I'm getting the Moony side of Remus at the moment; as timid as he normally behaves, he is totally in control of the situation. His practiced hands slide down my hips, leaving a trail of fire on my skin, before his thumbs slide inside the waistband of my skirt and push it over my thighs. I move my own hands down his chest and fumble with his belt buckle for a moment before it comes apart and I unzip his trousers. My palm brushes over him through his pants and I inhale sharply through the kiss, but before I have time to really register, Remus makes a soft chuckling noise and his hand grasps mine and helps me in sliding his pants off his slender hips. He breaks from the kiss and gives me a look with so much wanting that my stomach drops to my lady bits. He removes his worn boxers himself, which takes some anticipation out of the whole thing, but then he's standing before me completely exposed and he's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.

He wraps an arm around me and carefully lowers me down onto the couch before easing himself on top of me. I feel his fingers deftly unhook my bra and I can't help but snicker because as unsure of himself as he's always been, he's clearly gotten jiggy a few times in his life, whereas I've scared off every bloke to look in my direction – except him. And he smiles as well as he slides my bra off and lets it fall to the side before dropping another kiss to the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. I can't help but squirm at the sensation, but the giggle quickly catches my throat as his lips travel down, over my collarbone, right in between my breasts, to my belly button.

"You are so beautiful," he murmurs, punctuating with a kiss just above my knickers. He glances up, meeting my gaze, before pulling off my panties in an agonizingly slow manner. His lips are upturned in a smirk, as though he knows what he's doing to me, and I resist the urge to knock him in the head with my knees because he makes me so damn happy it doesn't even matter.

My eyes widen in surprise and then roll back in my head as I feel lips at the back of my left knee, slowly traveling up the inside of my thigh. The next sensation is just as surprising but not unwelcome, as one of Remus's fingers teases gently at my entrance. I can't help letting out a small moan, and the action is repeated a few times before the finger dips inside and pulls out. I whine in protest; my breaths are more shallow and for Merlin's sake, I've only wanted Remus to seduce me for months so why didn't he just get on with it?

His face reappears in my field of vision, hovering over me, and he smiles gently, lowers his mouth and kisses me on the forehead. Visions enter mind of what's to come, and I can't help the nervous pang that runs through me because I'm twenty-four and have never had a real shag for experience's sake, and I'm going to make a bloody fool of myself, but as if reading my mind, Remus's brows furrow and he looks at me for a moment.

"Dora… is this – ?" he questions softly, and I jerk my head in something like a nod. His eyes smolder and dips his head to my shoulder. His lips paint kisses around my ears and he whispers in a husky voice, "As hard as that is for me to believe… I'll be gentle."

He pulls back slightly, positioning himself, and I whisper, "I love you," as he slowly slides into me. There's some discomfort and then a sharp pain and how in Merlin's name can this be pleasurable? I grit my teeth and let my eyes close. He pulls out and pushes back in just as slowly as before, and I can't help but softly cry out in pain. I feel his fingers stroking my face, tangling in my hair, soothing me. He tries once more but it's too much, and he can see it in my eyes. He pulls out for a final time and gathers me against his chest.

"It's alright," he says soothingly, and I realize there are tears escaping from my eyes.

"Bollocks," I mutter, and he chuckles. He peppers my forehead with kisses and strokes my back, and I press my face against his chest, humiliated. "Only I could manage to screw this up…"

Remus pulls back to look me in the eyes, and I drop my gaze, shamefaced. "Hey," he whispers, tilting my chin up with a finger. "You didn't screw anything up. I s'pose I forgot about what the first time is like for you…" His lips twitch slightly. "I love you, and there's more ways than this to show that."

I reach up and run my fingers through his hair once, making a last-minute decision. "Lay down," I whisper softly, and lower my hand to his shoulder, pushing him gently so his back meets the couch. He looks puzzled for a moment, until I rise to a sitting position and straddle his knees, and then his eyes widen slightly in realization.

"Dora –" he begins to protest, but I stop him.

"Don't," I say, my voice sounding a lot less brave than I feel. "I want to do this."

I take him in my hand and run my finger over the slit at the top, smiling slightly at the heavy breath he lets out. I've done this before at least, so I'm not entirely clueless to the procedure. I grip him loosely and let my hand slide up and down him a few times before I dip my head. "Dora," he groans as my lips go around him, and I feel his hands grip my hair, which only motivates me further. I run my tongue up and down the sides of his erection, and his hips buck. I find myself smirking as I work him in my mouth. Simple as eating an ice cream cone, I muse. After a few minutes of this, he stiffens, and his hands make to push my shoulders back, but I bat them away and ride out his orgasm with him; his semen isn't exactly appetizing, but it has a distinct taste that can only be Remus.

I pull away when I finish, and he crushes me against his chest. "Tonks," he rasps, burying his face in my hair.

"I love you," I whisper, and he kisses my temple. I let out an involuntary yawn, and he pulls the afghan off the back and drapes it over us before wrapping an arm around my waist. I fall asleep listening to his heartbeat.

**x**

I jolt awake. Sunlight is streaming through the back window. I rub sleep out of my eyes and lay there for a moment, taking a deep breath. It slowly registers that I'm covered by Grannie Tonks's old afghan and wearing nothing underneath. The previous evening rockets back into my memory – and then I realize that Remus is nowhere to be found. I glance over the side of the couch. My clothes are in a neatly folded pile, and a small, folded piece of parchment sits atop them.

_Nymphadora,_

_You know now that I love you, and that isn't going to change. But I must leave immediately at Dumbledore's request. Please don't try to follow or track me down, it'll only make things more dangerous for the both of us. This is for the best. I hope that someday you'll be able to forgive me._

_-Remus J. Lupin_

I balk at the tidy scrawl. I glance around, waiting for someone to pop up and say that I'm hallucinating, or dreaming, or anything. But instead, my stomach gives an unpleasant lurch and there's bile in the back of my throat and I feel as though I could cry.

All of a sudden Remus is there, leaving my bedroom looking harried and distracted. He's dressed once again. He pulls his cloak off the hanger by the front door and begins fastening it around his neck. He's doing it then, he's going to leave…

"Remus?" I squeak, and he whirls around. I clutch the afghan to to my chest, feeling unbearably self-conscious. His expression is pained, his lips downturned. His eyes won't meet mine. He seems to steel himself, though, and he straightens his back before his hand meets the door handle. I make a move to stand up, dragging the afghan with me. "Remus?" I question again, my voice taking on a hysterical edge. But this time he doesn't look back, and the door shuts behind him, and there's a loud crack as he Disapparates.

There are a million foul words I want to hurl at him that will scar him, make him hurt, make him regret taking a coward's way out and not saying goodbye, not saying a thing. I stand there, on the shoddy old carpet, clutching the smelly afghan and his farwell note to my chest, and I scream. Not a scream of fear, though. More one of anguish. The tears come, spilling down my cheeks. I feel unloved, unwanted, abandoned like a smashed bottle in an alleyway. And as my knees give way and I fall to the carpet, I rip Remus Lupin's note to shreds.


End file.
